McCoy: A Bad Boy Romance

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McCoy: A Bad Boy Romance Page 5

by Michelle Amy


  “Hey,” I whispered, leaning down to peer up at him as he stared at his hands still. “Do you want to leave this for a bit? Tell me the rest another time?”

  He blinked a couple times before his eyes focused on me. “Yeah. Another time.”

  I cupped his cheeks in my hands. He was warm and the stubble on his jaw tickled my palms. “Do you want to go out? How can I take your mind off of this?”

  He held my wrists and gave me a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “I’m alright.” He pushed himself to his feet and stretched, pressing his hands into his lower back and leaning from side to side. “I haven’t talked about any of this before. It feels… it feels good I guess.”

  I put my hands on my knees and smiled up at him. “I’m glad.”

  He scratched the back of his neck. “Listen, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, but I need to go. I want to take some photos, be on my own. Is that okay with you?”

  McCoy was hiding this from me for a reason. I knew this about him. Getting him to open up to me like this had taken nearly four months. At the beginning, when we had sat and talked for the first time, every question I asked felt like I was pulling teeth. I saw this as a step in the right direction, regardless of how he wanted to deal with the aftermath.

  I nodded. “Yeah, go ahead. I’m going to call Carly, see if she wants to come over again tonight. Maybe talk about Spencer.”

  “Talk about Spencer? As in tell her he’s an ass?”

  I nodded again. “Yes, a top notch asshole. I think she knows already. Hopefully she’s already shown him the door. If she has she’ll be thankful for our company tonight.”

  “Sounds good to me,” he said, bending down and kissing my cheek. “I’ll be home for dinner.”

  “Okay, be safe.”

  After McCoy left I called Carly. She answered the phone with a sleepy slur to her voice and barked at me for waking her up before noon on a Sunday. I scolded her for waking up later than most college kids did on a Sunday before promptly inviting her for dinner. She happily agreed and told me she would come over later in the evening.

  It was strange to have my house to myself again for a whole day. I was used to spending my days off with McCoy, lazily draped over our couch while we talked about just about anything and wore nothing but our underwear. I enjoyed the time we spent together.

  I tried to busy myself with mundane tasks like laundry and vacuuming. That entertained me for only a couple hours before I grew bored and lonely. Before McCoy had moved in with me I had liked living on my own. I had enjoyed evenings to myself with a good book and a cup of tea or a refreshing glass of wine. I liked my alone time. Now, for the first time, it wasn’t fulfilling.

  Chapter Nine

  When Carly knocked on my front door, I was relieved. She blew into the kitchen as she pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head. Bags were draped over each of her arms and she shot me a proud grin.

  “I come with gifts,” she said.

  I peered at the bags. “Oh?”

  She lifted one. “Booze and cheese to start the night off right.”

  I laughed. “Excellent.”

  We set to preparing the appetizer. She had brought over a wedge of brie cheese, which went in the oven accompanied by sliced pieces of french baguette. On top of the brie was an apricot jelly, cayenne pepper flakes, and crushed pecans. As we waited for it to be done, we poured ourselves a glass of wine and stood leaning against the counter.

  “Where’s boy wonder?” Carly asked as she swallowed her first sip and smacked her lips together like a grape juice commercial.

  “Out, he wanted to get some time to take some photos. We… we had a chat this morning.”

  “A chat?” Carly’s demeanour changed and she put her wine glass on the counter behind her. She lifted an eyebrow at me. “A chat about what?”

  “About his past. About everything.”

  “Oh, reall? Do tell.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure if I should.

  She straightened and rolled her eyes. “I’m not gonna go spilling his deep dark secrets to anyone, Veronica, he’s my friend too you know. Don’t tell me everything. Just give me a little bit- just something to clear away some of the mystery that is McCoy.”

  I chuckled. That was a fair enough compromise. “He sat down with me. It took him a while to accept that he was finally going to tell me everything and come clean. He didn’t want to… he definitely didn’t want to.”

  “God, I actually feel bad for the guy,” Carly said before her frown turned into a grin. “But keep going.”

  I remembered how his eyes had looked as he thought back on everything that had happened to him. “I felt bad too. I still do. It wasn’t easy for him. He doesn’t like who he used to be. He hates that guy. But he told me anyway.”

  I ended up telling Carly bits and pieces of the story McCoy had shared with me. I told her about what had happened with his mother and father and how old he had been when he landed in prison. I told her about the confrontation with the inmate named Link. Then I told her about the new man who had been brought into McCoy’s cell two years after he was in prison. This captured Carly’s attention more than anything else.

  “He hit him with his lunch tray?” She gaped.

  I nodded.

  “That’s the kind of thing you see in movies. Holy shit. McCoy is a serious bad ass. I mean, come on. He was how old did you say?”

  “Twenty two, I think. Maybe twenty one.”

  “Fuck.”

  I nodded again. “I know. And he spent ten years there. This all happened in the first few years. How crazy is that?”

  “And he spent time in solitary? How long?”

  I shrugged. “He didn’t say.”

  Carly pulled her phone out of her purse which hung off one of my barstools. Her nails clicked on the screen as she typed, then she handed me the phone. A picture of a small cement room filled the screen. There was a cot, a toilet, and a sink all within arm’s reach. There was a small window that was too high to see out of, and it was the only source of light.

  I felt something inside me break.

  “That’s some messed up way to live,” Carly was saying, pulling the phone back to herself and peering down at the picture. “Did he say this is what it was like?”

  “Yeah, but he had no window.”

  “Oh.”

  The two of us stood in sullen silence for several minutes. I pictured McCoy sitting on one of those cement cots with his elbows resting on his knees. I could see him burying his face in his hands and enduring the silent and lonesome torture of solitude. He had said how being alone with his thoughts was one of the worst things he had suffered. Thoughts of nearly killing his father. Thoughts of his mother whom never came to visit him. Thoughts of the eight years he still had ahead of him.

  Carly touched my shoulder. “Vee, he’s not in that place anymore. He lives here, in this beautiful home of yours. And he sleeps on your bed, surrounded by an insane amount of pillows and cuddled up next to you every night. This is behind him.”

  I wiped the tears from my cheeks that I didn’t realize were there and tried to shake away the sadness. “I know. It’s just… I don’t like thinking of him in that place.”

  “Me neither,” Carly admitted.

  The timer on the stove went off and I slipped my hands into my leopard print oven mitts. McCoy both loved and hated them. He swore I looked like the cutest thing he had ever seen when I wore them, and then he hung his head in shame if he was the one who had to put them on. I pulled the sweet smelling cheese temptation out of the oven and set it down on a hot tray on the counter.

  Carly waited no more than a minute before reaching for a piece of bread and dipping it right smack in the middle of the melted cheese wheel. She burned the roof of her mouth, swore like a sailor, and then went in for another piece.

  When I spread cheese on my first piece of bread I heard the front door open. “We’re in the kitchen,” I called, “and we have brie! Are you hun
gry?”

  I heard McCoy kick his boots off in the hall. “I just want to get cleaned up, save me some,” his voice was hurried and he was already heading up the stairs. We watched him through the archway as he took the stairs two at a time.

  “He must be hungry to be in such a hurry,” Carly muttered, going in for another piece.

  “He hasn’t eaten since probably this morning. If that. Maybe not all day.”

  “This morning? Wow, Vee.”

  When McCoy joined us he went straight for the cheese. His face was a bit red from his shower and he was wearing a loose long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans. His hair was still wet and he had slicked it back off his forehead. He gave me a small smile after popping a piece of bread in his mouth.

  “How was your day?” I asked. “Get any good photos?”

  He nodded and waited to swallow his food before he answered. “A few, wish I had managed to get more. That’s alright though. The weather wasn’t ideal so the lighting was kind of shit.”

  “Can I see them?” I inquired, leaning forward on the counter.

  “Maybe later.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  Carly looked back and forth between us as she took a sip of wine. When she put it down on the counter she cleared her throat. “I have an announcement to make.”

  We both looked at her. McCoy ate more bread and brie.

  “I dumped Spencer. He was an ass. I’m sorry I put you through the torture of having to endure his company last night. His true colors really did seem to come out, and I didn’t like what I saw.”

  “Good,” McCoy said before I had the chance to respond. “You’re too good for him. He was a-”

  “You deserve better,” I said, shooting McCoy a look. He shrugged and fell silent. “Did he take it well? He seems like the kind of guy who would freak out.”

  Carly gave me a stern look. “He wasn’t pleased about it. I dumped him in the car when he dropped me off. He didn’t understand, and I told him he didn’t need to. I kept it short and simple. I just wasn’t into him. And he dropped me off and drove away. Nice clean break. Neither of us were incredibly invested, I don’t think.”

  I wondered if Carly was lying. Our conversation the night before about Spencer had given me the feeling that she had been optimistic about him.

  Carly put her chin in her hands and pouted. “McCoy,” she pleaded, “don’t you have any single friends who might fancy me?”

  McCoy chuckled once. It didn’t hold any humour in it. “No, sorry Carly.”

  “You have no single friends, or just none that would like me?”

  He shot her an irritated glance. “What’s not to like?”

  “Good answer,” she conceded.

  “I wouldn’t want you getting involved with the type of quality friends that I have, Carly, that’s all. If I had someone to set you up with, I’m sure Veronica would have had me playing cupid a long time ago.”

  Carly sighed. “You’re right. Of course you’re right.”

  McCoy gave her a soft smile that made me swoon inside for him. “If you stop looking he’ll show up when you least expect it,” he took another bite of bread and cheese and mumbled, “I promise.”

  Carly’s cheeks flushed pink and she looked back at me. “How about we just share him? We share everything else.”

  I laughed and McCoy nearly choked on his food. This only made me laugh harder. His eyes watered as he finally managed to swallow the mouthful, and then he gave us both a playful scowl. “Not that it’s even an option, but I would not be able to handle the both of you. Two quick witted female brains? No thank you.”

  Carly giggled. “I think you just complimented me. How sweet. I think we would work quite nicely together.”

  McCoy looked at me for help.

  I laughed and let him drown.

  Carly sidled up beside him and ran a finger down his arm from shoulder to wrist. “It wouldn’t come without it’s perks, you know.” She looked over her shoulder at me and winked. “Veronica and I have played this game once or twice.”

  “What?” He blinked down at her and then looked up at me.

  I couldn’t contain the laughter that was bubbling inside me. His shocked expression was too much to endure. I covered my mouth and bent at the waist as Carly continued to make him as uncomfortable as possible.

  “I like a little bit of… dominatrix stuff. How do you feel about that? Could you get on board with me standing behind you with a whip and-”

  “Alright,” he said, holding up his hands and showing her his palms. “Rein that shit in, Carly, you officially have me terrified. You win.”

  “Two compliments in one night, McCoy, what are you trying to do to me?” She giggled and he returned her smile. Then she nudged him with her elbow in his ribs.

  He recoiled from her touch and his hand clutched his side. His eyebrows drew together and he drew a sharp breath between his teeth.

  Carly’s eyes widened. “I didn’t hit you that hard, you pansy, I just-”

  I was at his side and shushing her. “What happened to you?” I asked as he straightened up and let his hand fall back down to his side.

  He shook his head. “Nothing, don’t worry about it. Just took a bit of a-”

  “Don’t you dare lie to me,” I hissed.

  He stared down at me. Carly stood beside me and crossed her arms. “Yeah, don’t you dare lie to us.”

  I had half a mind to tell Carly that this was no time for her humour, but I refrained. Instead I reached for the hem of McCoy’s shirt to get a look at what was hurting him.

  He yanked his shirt out of my grip and took a step back from me. “Just leave it, Veronica. I said I’m fine.”

  I wanted to shout at him. I took a deep breath. “Lift up your damn shirt.”

  Carly inched away from us. “You know, I just remembered that I have something to do. Thanks for the dinner invite… you two have fun. Enjoy the rest of the cheese and the wine. And, McCoy?”

  His eyes flicked to her.

  “Good luck. Call me if you need anything, Vee,” she said without a hint of a joke in her voice. Then she gathered her purse and jacket and left.

  Chapter Ten

  McCoy’s eyes slid back to me as I stood before him with my fists firmly planted on my hips. He opened his mouth to say something and then promptly closed it again. He looked at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and then met my gaze again. “I’m sorry.”

  “Good, that’s a start.”

  I watched him catch himself rolling his eyes. His jaw tightened. “I just don’t want you to worry, Veronica. Not if it’s something that isn’t worth worrying about.”

  “You don’t get to decide what’s worth worrying about. I do. Do you like doing this to me?”

  “No,” he said shortly, his eyes narrowing on me.

  “Then show me what is under your shirt.”

  He forced himself not to roll his eyes again. While he glared at me he lifted up his shirt. His ribs were bruised- they were bruised badly. They were dark purple and the outside of the bruise was tinged yellow. There was a cut above his hipbone. It was deeper than something one would acquire from falling off a bicycle, and much neater. It looked like something that would be inflicted by a knife.

  “Who did this to you?” I breathed, looking from his injury to his eyes, which were fixed on me.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said, dropping the shirt back down.

  “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop hiding things from me. Answer my question. Who did this to you?”

  His eyes searched mine. He wasn’t getting out of this one. I crossed my arms over my chest and widened my eyes as if to demand an answer sooner rather than later.

  He hung his head, rolled his shoulders, and then looked at the ceiling as he groaned with irritation. “Alright. Fine. You know the guys who tried to take you and Carly home the first night we met?”

  “The gang bangers?” I asked, images of the men leaping
to the foreground of my memory. I remembered the one in the middle, the one who had done all the talking. He had been big, and a little overweight. He had been wearing an oversized gray sweatshirt and loose low riding jeans. “I remember.”

  “Well, that’s who did this.”

  “What?” I exclaimed. “I thought they were your friends-at least, sort of your friends. Why would they come after you like that? What did they want?”

  “They were just being assholes. It’s what they do. They saw me taking pictures and they wanted to rough me up a bit.”

  He was looking at his feet.

  I felt a heat rise to my cheeks. “Don’t lie to me, McCoy. I’m serious. I meant what I said this morning. If you can’t be honest with me, then… then you shouldn’t be with me. You have to let me in. It’s not an option. I refuse to be kept in the dark. You do not get to make those decisions for me.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know what they wanted from you.”

  “They wanted me to go back.”

  “Go back?” I asked. “Go back where?”

  “To living with them. To being one of them. I was never supposed to leave, Veronica. Guys like me… we don’t get the girl like you. Once we’re out of prison we are still bound by the rules that were in place there. Friends became family. I had sworn to stay with them and help them, and they had sworn to help me. If not for them I wouldn’t have had a place to stay when I was released. They provided a home for me. And when I met you, and chose you over them, I was spitting in their faces. They came to get me to go back.”

  “And they beat you-”

  “This all happened because I said no.”

  “Oh,” I looked at the countertop. “And so they wanted to hurt you?”

  “Sort of.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “They need my help. They want me for a job. There’s a guy giving them a run for their money in the circles they run in. They’re calling me and a couple other guys in to try to take him out. When I said no they tried to get me into their car.”

  “What the hell McCoy, you need to report this to the police. They can’t get away with what they did to you. It’s not right.”

 

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